THE WITCH AND THE PRINCESS

The Norse skalds sing of a land so

rich with bountiful foods from the earth,

that hunger has never been known.

Young maids so beautiful that the stars

shine day and night to shower their love.

Amongst the beauties of the Eastern plains,

those Slavonic goddesses and Norseman brides,

fair daughters of Mother Earth, our need she provides,

praised in verse and song, in which love doth reign.

In this fabled land,

travelers tell tales of a hidden

princess of princesses, a virgin maiden

so kind and innocent that flowers

bow when ‘ere she passes amongst them.

The very touch of her foot brings

baby’s breath into bloom.

The touch of her delicate hand

heals all injuries, body, and mind.

Tales of a voice so heavenly

that songbirds stop to savor her melodies

and the Sun halts its course to hear.

Her beauty so exquisite that men

cannot speak and so fail to find words

to greet and court her,

becoming silent men of stone.

I, Ragnar, Prince of the Norsemen

swore a great oath by Mimameirdr,

to find this perfect maiden or die.

So, I supplied my dragon ship,

a sea-floating womb for my Norseman.

Scurrying across open seas

and down majestic rivers,

to trade and find this princess.

My blind Witch, brought I,

to guide my dragon ship.

Her price not so high,

to give her a girl child

and never forget them.

My Witch was young and pretty,

a good healer, so my warriors

guarded and treated her well.

We had been friends and playmates

all our lives. I protected her. I loved her.

But a prince cannot marry a witch,

So, a spinster she remained.

Our brave troop sought this mythical princess,

fighting sorties and battles for many years,

getting closer, but still far away.

My Witch said,

my love, I will find your princess,

this I swear to you.

The years rolled by

and my good men died

in too many battles, but

we shall meet again in Valhalla.

One day, my Witch and I

found a beautiful valley,

peaceful and serene teeming with wildlife

not afraid of man’s touch.

A young doe came up and said,

I see a prince and a witch seek our Mistress?

I replied such is true.

My Witch and I have traveled for many years

to find this valley and your Mistress,

but the cost was too high, I think,

all my friends are dead.

Only my Witch and I still breathe.

The doe said,

Come, I will introduce our Mistress.

We walked for many days.

On the ninth day, I rose with the Sun,

but my Witch could not stand.

She told me.

My love, leave me,

I am too weary of traveling further.

Leave me some food and water

and go to your Princess of Princesses.

I release you from your promise.

The doe said,

come, Prince, she is only a witch

and you can only marry a Princess.

Ragnar took his Witch’s hand.

I shall not abandon you, my love.

We have been friends all our lives.

But, my love, I failed

to keep my promise to you,

a promise I made when a young child.

To protect and love you forever and even more.

No witch, I shall stay

here for what life I have which remains.

We shall live together if you recover,

you will have your girl child.

I don’t need the Princess of Princesses,

for I see now, she was always by my side.

If you die, I will await my death near you.

Go away, doe, I am done searching,

I have the Princess of Princesses,

she is my Witch.

Witch, forgive me for failing to marry you,

but from this moment onward,

my dear wife, you shall be my wife.

I looked at the doe,

who was no longer a doe,

but a beautiful lady dressed all in white.

Smiling, she said,

I am Freya, Goddess of War, Love, and the Home.

So often, we search for real love so far from our homes,

when she is within arm’s reach.

Your error, dear Prince,

was to put social rules before love.

I have watched you, Prince Ragnar, all your life,

you always protected and cared for your Witch,

you gave her home and clothes,

and treated her with respect always.

Your blind Witch provided wise advice,

warning you of danger and evil plotting.

She demanded nothing from you

but to sleep next to you at night.

When land journeys were too hard for her,

you carried her.

When she was afraid,

you held her tight.

You sought a mythical Princess,

when the real gold of your heart lived

within your Witch.

I will return youth to both of you.

You may return home or stay here in Asgard.

Your Witch will see, as do you and me.

She will bear many warriors and witches

to fight at Ragnarök, and some survive.

For every world cycle begins and ends anew,

Father Odin has seen that you two

will populate a new and better world.

We were young once again,

my Witch gazed upon me for the first time,

Husband, you are handsome indeed

and I hope I am appealing to you?

Sweet wife, you are beautiful and kind.

The true Princess of Princesses.

I am the luckiest Prince of all Princes,

for you love me, Witch.

The Prince said,

holding his Witch’s hand,

we stay here in Asgard

to fight at the end times.

I am at peace at last

with the love of my Witch.

***This recent poem is one of my favorites, for it is actually fully of much more that it seems psychoistially